Everything I'm Not
by xxchasingdreamsxx
Summary: I didn't understand what was happening. Around the man I hated, I was happier and more like myself, but around my boyfriend I was trying to be his picture-perfect girl, and it just wasn't me. Ted/Maryse/JoMo.


**This is my first wrestling fic. && I'm really excited to try something different! I was watching MITB from last night and I thought "OMFG, perfect love triangle there" when Morrison got Maryse down from the ladder. :) So here's my crack at it. I don't believe there are any Ted/Maryse/JoMo fics on here, I may be wrong, and if there are, I apologize if it looks like I stole the idea!**

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_*money, money, money, money, money*_

* * *

It was the RAW Money in the Bank ladder match. Everyone was down on the ground, ladders were scattered from the ramp to the announcer's table.

Nervously, I eyed the briefcase that hovered above the ring. Ted was lying in pain in front of the announcer's table, my gaze switched btween the two and I realized my chance.

If I could get the briefcase, then I could give it to Ted, who could then win a title at the right moment. If I did that, then maybe—just maybe—he'd stop paying so much attention to his bank account and damn Million Dollar belt, and actually _talk _to me.

I got up and looked around, the fans were calling out my name, and questioning what in the hell I was doing. I'd probably piss Vince off, but that didn't matter right now.

Before I went up to the ring, I checked on Ted to see that he was concious, but would probably be down for a few minutes.

I kicked my heels as I got to the ring's apron, and once again looked around to make sure Randy Orton wasn't behind me, maliciously grinning and waiting to RKO me.

I slid under the bottom rope and once again looked around the ring. I found a ladder directly under the briefcase and pulled it up, trying to steady it—but it most likely wouldn't stay that way with the way my knees were wobbling.

Slowly, I took the first step up the ladder and bit my lip. I can do this without falling and breaking every bone in my body. Totally. There were more fans buzzing at my actions, and calling out my name, asking me what I was doing.

Once I was a few steps up I realized I was totally screwed as John Morrison began to slowly get up. Stepping up a few more, I clutched the top of the ladder and attempted to reach the briefcase. It didn't go over well, and I ended up missing by a long shot.

"Maryse, what the hell are you doing up there?"

John Morrison was below me, grabbing my ankle, and I gripped the top of the ladder so he wouldn't kill me. What the _in the hell_ had possessed me to do something so stupid? I knew that I wanted to help Ted, and get him to pay attention to be, but if I went up the ladder, I'd get killed by John, and if I went down the ladder, I'd _still_ get killed by John after insulting him in French and costing him a match.

Stupid me.

My body shook as I felt Morrison tug on my ankle, "Maryse, get down here, you're going to hurt yourself," he said with an irritated tone.

I shook my head and continued to look down at him—oh, my, God I hope he doesn't see my underwear, well, if a flimsy piece of cloth counted as underwear. Why did I choose today of all days to wear a ridiculously trampy outfit?

I felt my foot slip while my ankle was being tugged on, and Morrison caught me over his shoulders. I screeched and began kicking my legs wildly—I was close enough to a ladder, how much would it _kill_ to be slammed onto it?

He put me down and rolled his eyes at me. I put my hands up in front of me so I could distance myself away from him.

"Get out of the ring, before you get hurt, Maryse," he ordered, pointing to the ramp.

I gasped when I looked over his shoulders to see Ted making his way up the ladder. He whipped around and saw him, and quickly ran over to the ladder to knock him down. That's when I bolted out of the way, and scurried to ringside, taking my spot next to the announcer's table.

I stayed glued to my seat the whole match, afraid of getting up. Ted had made his way to the top a few more times, but was taken down. I went over to make sure he was okay, and we stayed there while he moaned in agony.

At the end of the match, things began to pick up pace as Randy made his way up the ladder and received a huge reaction from the crowd. But when I looked to the other side of the ring, I saw a close friend of mine quickly get up and push Randy off of the ladder.

"Mike?" I asked loudly, and covered my mouth when Ted made a sound of confusion.

Suddenly, the lyrics of _I Came to Play_ and a chorus of heavy boos filled the arena. I bit back a smile, and knew once I met up with Mike it was _all_ he was going to be able to talk about.

I watched him make his speech about the future, and had heard that Vince viewed Mike as the future of the company—which really didn't shock me, he worked a lot harder than most people in the company.

Once he began to get up and the EMT's began to help him up, Ted began to complain again and asked to have his Million Dollar belt, not even asking me if I was alright, or if I could come with him.

One day, I would smash that belt into a million pieces.

* * *

After Ted had left me alone in the gorilla position, I decided to make my way around the arena and see if I could meet up with a few friends. I hadn't been out a lot with them lately, I was usually at the hotel with Ted, who'd usually be checking his trust fund and shining his belt.

_Fun._

It was when I stopped to talk to Mark Henry, Chris Irvine (or Jericho, he liked being called that), and Paul Wight, better known as the Big Show, who were all eating cookies, that I realized I was starving. I excused myself to go to catering.

When I entered catering, I came across my four closest friends. "Hey guys," I greeted, and took a seat next to Layla El and Michelle McCool.

"Frenchie!" Layla cried out, hugging me tightly. We hadn't been able to see each other since our tag-team match against each other during the Draft.

"Layla, space," I reminded her. She quickly let go and wrapped an arm around my neck. "Congrats, champ," I said, pointing to the gold title that was placed next to Michelle's on the table.

She grinned and shrugged, "It would've been awful if Kelly got the title. Imagine that tramp running around SmackDown with it," she said with a shudder, and I rolled my eyes at the mention of Kelly's name. "Now I realize why you and Eve were so happy when Kelly got traded to SmackDown."

She had the ultimate sweetheart character onscreen, and was beaten on every week in the storyline Vince had put her in with Layla and Michelle, but you didn't dare mess with her backstage—I didn't know who she had slept with to gain so much power backstage, but whoever it was, had _power_. Vince had once threatened to force me on ninety-day leave for bumping into her once and spilling coffee all over her. I knew that I wasn't the most skilled Diva in the company—that went to Beth and Nattie—but at least I had more talent than her, and didn't start out as an exhibitionist.

Beth Phoenix sat across from me and sighed, "It pisses me off how she had no wrestling background or experience, but was discovered in a magazine, and called up to WWE because she had 'the look'. I had to work my ass off to get a contract with this company. I mean, at least you guys entered a competition, and were evaluated before they took you in."

Michelle spoke up for the first time, "Which reminds me, Maryse. What _were_ you doing on that ladder?"

Layla's eyes widened and she nodded, "Oh, my, gosh, Maryse! I was about to scream when John caught you! I thought he was going to kill you!"

Nattie nodded with an irritated expression, "It's true," she confirmed with a snarl, "She almost popped my eardrum."

"Now, why would I ever do that to Maryse?"

Beth's eyes narrowed at John Morrison, who had entered catering and was behind us. "I don't know, but if you did I'd have to ruin that pretty face of yours."

"Scary," he muttered sarcastically. "That was awfully stupid of you though, Maryse."

I bit my tongue to prevent myself from starting an arguement with him. "Whatever," I mumbled, and turned around.

John walked across the room to go talk to someone else and I turned my attention back to the conversation that the girls were having. "Are you coming with us, Ryse?"

I blinked at them, "What?"

"Mike was talking to us earlier, and said he wanted to check out this club downtown to celebrate his big win," Layla explained, "Can you _please _go?" She begged, and gave me a pleading look. She was so hard to say no to. "It'd be so much more fun with you there!"

"It'd be so much more fun with her where?" Ted asked, and strolled up to us, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Hey babe."

I beamed at him, "The girls were just asking if I could join them to go out tonight to celebrate Layla and Mike for winning tonight. Do you mind?"

He shrugged, "Sure, I'll drop you off at the hotel. Cody, Randy, and I are going to go out to for a few drinks."

"Really?" I asked in surprise, Ted had always said that he didn't like to drink after his D.U.I. charge a few years ago. "Where?"

"There's this place downtown called _Charlie's_. Randy's cousin works there. C'mon, let's get going," he said quickly, ushering me up.

"I've never heard of _Charlie's_," I muttered, and brushed past John on my way out. I paused and turned around, "Bye girls, see you tonight." I cleared my throat and awkwardly looked at John, him and all of the girls looked like they wanted to say something, but decided against it.

"Maryse, I don't have all day," Ted complained, grabbing my wrist and dragging me along.

"_Désolé_," I muttered and turned around to walk with him.

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**Sorry if that chapter sucked /: But, I hope you all liked it. This story's not going to show Melina, Kelly or Tiffany in a positive light, so I apologize if you're a die-hard fan of any of them! _Muchas gracias _for reading, review please!**

**:)**


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